


Hell and High Water: Coda 1

by thatviciousvixen



Series: The Orpheus Vignettes [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Just some good old fashioned smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes up three days after bringing Hannibal back from the dead. They probably have some things to discuss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell and High Water: Coda 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a coda to Hell and High Water, which you can read [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5472008/chapters/12645671)! If you're in it for the smut you don't have to read that one, but it'll explain a lot.

Once Will knows that they are safe, once he is sure he has succeeded, he falls into a deep sleep. Dreams dance through his mind like flower petals down a river - swift and meandering, delicate and lovely and gone far too quickly. He sees face after face of people who have come in and out of his life. Some smile, some reach for him with soft hands that he can never quite grasp. They all look at him with an amused curiosity that he can’t blame them for. He’s traveled to hell, and he’s brought the devil back with him. Some day he’ll have to atone for that. 

When he wakes he has no way of knowing how much time has passed. The world is dark to him, and his other senses are not yet heightened enough to help him navigate his sightless new existence. There are a few things he manages to figure out: he’s lying in a bed, a soft, luxurious thing with clean, cool sheets and a thick downy blanket that covers him from his feet to his chin. The room is cool but there is no frigid bite to the air that invades his lungs and chokes him from the inside. Somewhere nearby food is cooking. With a groan he slowly sits up, rolling his neck and blinking his eyes as if that might clear the blindness from them.

A door creaks open, followed by soft footsteps that move to the bed. The mattress dips just as a warm, soft hand reaches to cup his cheek.

“Hannibal,” he breathes, unable to stifle the childish glee that bubbles up in his chest. He is here. They are together. It worked.

There is a low laugh that fills Will with warmth that radiates from his chest and out. Hannibal’s hand pushes back into his hair and down, stroking over his neck to rest on his shoulder. “You’ve been out for quite some time, my Orpheus. Do you feel rested?”

“I feel...groggy,” Will chuckles, tongue sluggish and thick from disuse. He reaches out, slowly feeling his way forward until his hands land somewhere on Hannibal’s chest. He rests his palms flat over the soft knit of his sweater, feeling the flutter of a heartbeat underneath. “How long was I out?”

“Three days,” Hannibal informs him, laughing again as Will’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You made quite the journey, Will. I would be surprised if you hadn’t needed to shut down for some time.”

Will grunts his agreement, once more trying to wriggle the stiffness from his neck. “True, I guess. Where are we now?”

For a moment there is a flurry of adjustment as Hannibal moves behind him, and soon clever fingers are digging into the muscles of his neck and shoulders. It should be more surprising, this addition of touch and physical affection; instead it feels like it should have been there the whole time. Will groans and lets his head drop forward as Hannibal answers. “Georgia. Savannah, to be more specific. I own an apartment here under an alias. It would have been far too difficult to leave the country while you were unconscious, and I assume that my convenient death means they won’t be searching for me so we’ll be safe for the moment.”

“Anywhere but South Dakota,” Will sighs, a bit too distracted by how good it feels to have Hannibal’s hands working the knots and tension from his shoulders to really devote his attention to the conversation. “Where to after this?” It’s something he hadn’t put much time into considering as he searched Below. It was all too surreal to imagine there might be a future for them to run away to.

A gentle kiss is pressed to the back of Will’s head, just at the base of his skull. “That is a question I assumed we would find the answer to together. Not now, though. You need to eat, from the look of you it’s been quite some time.”

As if in agreement, Will’s stomach gives a grumpy sort of gurgle that makes them both laugh. As Will moves to stand he finds a hand on his shoulder, firmly holding him in place.

“No, let me bring it to you,” Hannibal insists. “You’re not in any state to grope around the apartment.”

Will snorts and rolls his eyes. “Going to have to get used to it sometime, Hannibal. I don’t think my eyes are going to start working. It’s the price I paid, remember?” Will can feel the words on Hannibal’s lips before they’re even spoken, so he rushes to continue. “And I’d do it again and give up much more to have you here with me, so don’t start.”

Hannibal laughs softly, stroking Will’s jaw to guide his face closer. “You miraculous thing,” he murmurs, voice as soft as a psalm between them. Will can feel how close Hannibal is, can feel his soft breath just before he leans in all the way to seal their mouths together. It’s the first kiss they’ve shared; Will was half crazed in the snow after they’d escaped the house, it hadn’t been the proper time for romantic declarations. Now though...now it feels perfect, like a bolt sliding home as a lock clicks into place. Hannibal’s lips are sweet and soft, so sure as they work over Will’s. For his part Will slides his hand forward until he finds Hannibal’s resting on the bed, twining their fingers together and giving a gentle squeeze.

Hannibal pulls away, resting their foreheads together. “I dare not tell you how much I adore you, for those words could never be enough to express it,” he breathes, the tip of his nose brushing against Will’s.

Will laughs dazedly. “Yeah. Uh, same.”

With another fond laugh Hannibal finally lets Will rise, with the stipulation that he must accept help finding his way. They eat at the informal dining room attached to the kitchen; Will listens with a mounting warmth and affection as Hannibal uses his grand, expressive language to describe everything in full detail, right down to the grain of the wood on the wainscoting. The walls, he is told, are pale yellow. He wonders absently if he’ll forget colors someday.

They eat something Hannibal calls shakshuka. “Eggs poached in a spiced tomato base. It’s origin is highly contested, but I learned the recipe in Tunisia,” he explains. Will takes a bite - the eggs are light and delicate, and the tomato sauce is rich and warm. For the first time since returning Will doesn’t feel so damn cold. He carefully finds the handle of his coffee mug, taking a small sip and sighing in delight. It’s black and strong and perfectly bitter. 

He realizes that for the first time in a long time he feels like he is home. There is so much that ought to plague him, so many things to agonize over, but in the warmth of the breakfast nook in a foreign apartment he feels completely at ease. That is what Hannibal has become to him. An anchor, the sturdy foundation that keeps him from floating away. Home. 

“You know who brought me the first decent cup of coffee while I was in the hospital?” Will asks. Hannibal hums his curiosity and Will continues. “Jimmy Price. Of all the people who came to see me, he was the only one who got it. Who understood that I missed you, that I...you know, love you and all.”

“And all,” Hannibal repeats softly, and his hand finds Will’s under the table.

The day is spent relaxing and planning ahead. Both feel the pressing need to languish in the other’s presence, curled together on the couch for some time before moving to the small balcony to enjoy the Georgia winter. It’s fairly warm compared to Maryland and Virginia, they’re comfortable enough in sweaters without any extra bundling. For some long hours they discuss the future. It would be unwise to spend any long stretch of time in the States, not when Hannibal has spent so long on national news and plastered over the internet for all to see. 

“What about Greece?” Will suggests, feet propped up on the railing as he lounges back, eyes closed. “Good food, friendly people. We could live near the ocean.”

Hannibal hums thoughtfully. “Possible, although I am concerned by the current state of their economy.” He reaches over, taking Will’s legs and adjusting them so his feet are instead resting in Hannibal’s lap. He closes his fingers around an ankle, stroking his thumb lightly over the jut of bone. “France? There are plenty of universities we might find work at near Paris, or Cote d’Azur if you truly long to be by the water.”

Will opens his eyes and turns in Hannibal’s direction, contemplating the idea. “I did pick up a decent amount of French living in Louisiana…”

“And I am fluent, so I may teach you what you’ve missed,” Hannibal points out.

“Well. Let’s sleep on it. Like you said, we don’t need to leave right away,” Will says, smiling and shivering slightly as Hannibal draws a fingertip along the arch of his foot. “Listen Lecter, I don’t know who you think you’re sitting with but I’ll kick you off this balcony if you start with that cutesy tickling bullshit.”

Hannibal laughs, a rich sound that chases out any cold that may have seeped into Will’s bones. “Consider me thoroughly chastised. May I continue to touch, though?”

“You may,” Will allows with a grin. “That I like. Just...no tickling. I don’t respond well to tickling. Especially now that I can’t see you to fight back.”

There’s a moment of silence followed by a thoughtful noise and Hannibal leaning in closer. “On that note. May I examine your eyes? I’m curious if there will be an apparent cause to the blindness or if this is just another mystery for us to accept.”

“You’re the doctor,” Will says with a shrug. When Hannibal stands Will follows suit, taking Hannibal’s arm and letting himself be lead back into the bedroom. They make themselves comfortable on the bed. For a moment Will thinks to ask if Hannibal’s been sleeping beside him during his recovery, but he realizes before the words escape that the answer is apparent. He’s sure that instead of finding any rest Hannibal has been standing sentinel as he slept.

There’s a sound somewhere to his left from the en suite bathroom, drawers being slid open and shut, items being retrieved. When Hannibal returns he sits next to Will on the bed, facing him as Will sits propped against the headboard.

A soft click is followed by the presence of Hannibal’s hand near his face. “Do you see the light, Will?”

“Nope,” he answers simply. He’s not surprised. Abigail explained the rules, something would be taken and he wouldn’t think to assume he’d get it back. “Are they doing anything?”

“It’s bizarre,” Hannibal muses, clicking his penlight off and setting it aside. “Your pupils respond to the light. They dilate appropriately, as if you should be able to see.”

“And yet,” Will says with a shrug.

Hannibal’s hand reaches forward to cup Will’s jaw, his thumb tracing light patterns along his cheek. “You seem wholly undisturbed by your sudden blindness, Will,” he says, lightly pressing the digit to a full bottom lip. 

Will opens his mouth ever so slightly, finding himself leaning into the touch. “Well. I guess it just seems like a small price to pay.” Hannibal’s hand stalls for a moment before moving up to stroke through messy curls grown just this side of too long. “I can get by without my sight, plenty of people do it. I couldn’t get by without you. So the trade off benefits me more than anything.”

Silence stretches between them, full of words that for so long have gone unsaid. Hannibal makes a wounded noise low in his throat, leaning in. “Lovely, brave Will. May I kiss you?”

Will laughs softly, caught off guard by how little anxiety he feels over the touches, the request. “Yeah, please. Earlier was...pretty damn nice.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Hannibal takes Will by the hands, tugging him forward so they are sitting in the center of the bed. He wastes no time; it’s been far too long already, and there have been too many nights that he’s dreamed of having Will as eager and pliant as he is now. The kiss that brings them together tastes of relief, like a great gasp of breath after weeks spent under water. While not their first it seems to carry all the importance and confession that they’ve been holding in. It says _I’ve been waiting for you_ and _I’m here now, I’m sorry it took me so long, I love you too_. 

Arms wind around Will’s slim hips, their bodies drawing closer together as lips part and Will licks into Hannibal’s eager mouth. He tastes sweet, like the strawberries they’d nibbled on with brunch. Just underneath is a flavor completely and utterly _Hannibal_ , one Will knows he’ll never be able to compare to anything he’s tasted before. 

His hands drift up to Hannibal’s arms, resting on his biceps before sliding up to touch his face. His fingertips are hungry to take everything in. They make up for his lack of vision by feeling their way across warm skin, tugging at soft hair and sliding over the broad expanse of a strong back. He sighs as Hannibal pulls away to nuzzle a kiss into his neck, moaning softly.

“You taste just as sweet as I imagined,” Hannibal breathes, guiding Will to lay back. He stretches out beside him, propped on his elbow so he can lean down and set the pace as he steals kiss after kiss, as slow and sweet as sips of rich red wine. “I need to know what you’re comfortable with, how far you want to go. I couldn’t imagine pushing you, not after all you’ve done for me…”

Without even touching him Will can feel the tension in Hannibal’s body, the restraint. He lays coiled like a snake ready to strike, held back by sheer force of will alone. He’s filled with an affection for the monster beside him, this venomous thing that has snuffed the life from so many but loves Will in a way neither man can fully understand.

“I’m not some blushing virgin, Hannibal,” he says with a grin, looping an arm around Hannibal’s neck to bring his solid weight down over him. “You don’t have to walk on eggshells.”

“I would never press you into anything without being sure,” Hannibal says almost indignantly. He leans in, sucking a kiss against the corner of Will’s mouth. “It has nothing to do with thinking you’re delicate and everything to do with manners.”

Will grins, arching into the kiss. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. To answer your question, I am a red blooded man with needs and would very much appreciate them being tended to tonight, in whatever way you deem fit.”

He can feel Hannibal’s grin, sharp and dangerous against his jaw. “You shouldn’t give me so much leeway.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t make me regret it.”

Hannibal is apparently done with words, instead focusing his attention on stripping them of their clothing until they lay bare and entangled in the middle of the bed. Will is surprised by how comfortable he feels; he supposes it has something to do with the fact that he can’t see Hannibal’s face, can’t see the hunger or expectation written there. He can focus on reaching forward and pulling Hannibal close, on sliding his palms along trembling sides to feel the warmth and softness of his skin. Between his thighs his cock is half-hard already, a pleasant fluttering low in his stomach as arousal sparks his nerves. It’s been a long time.

“Apparently I had nothing to worry about,” Hannibal says, and Will can _hear_ the smirk in his voice. There’s no time to respond though, because suddenly Hannibal’s large, talented hand is wrapped around Will’s shaft. He teases him until he’s fully hard and panting against Hannibal’s shoulder.

“Apparently,” is all Will manages to grunt, which earns him another laugh. His own breath catches in his throat as sure fingers brush down over his balls and lower to lightly caress between over his hole. “O-oh, are you going to…”

The hand stops, and Hannibal moves it to rest on Will’s leg. “Are you...I can’t say the thought isn’t appealing,” he says, voice thick with need as his thumb rubs circles into Will’s thigh. “Would you be opposed to the idea?”

Will can only laugh, head falling back against the pillow. “No, definitely not opposed. I told you, you don’t have to be afraid of breaking me.”

“I never succeeded in breaking you before,” Hannibal says roughly. “No matter how I tried. At this point I dare say you’re wholly unbreakable.” He leans in, kissing gently along Will’s jaw and up to his lips. “Give me a moment, I’m certain I have lubricant in the bathroom.” 

His weight is suddenly gone from the bed, giving Will a moment to close his eyes and catch his breath. He’s imagined this, it would be a blatant lie to try and say otherwise. This is all a bit faster than he’d anticipated, but the fact remains. After everything they’ve been through it seems like the natural progression of their relationship. 

With a deep breath Will props himself up on his elbows, tilting his head to the side and listening. He can hear Hannibal in the bathroom once more, this time searching with a bit more urgency. He can’t help but chuckle, running his hand low over his stomach before letting it drift down to curl around the base of his cock. He can’t see Hannibal but he can imagine his body perfectly - he’s seen it enough times to bring it readily to mind. The firm muscles of his stomach and thighs, the salt-and-pepper hair covering his chest. He thinks of Hannibal the night they fought Dolarhyde, the predatory look in his eyes as he struck blow after blow, covered in blood.

With a soft groan he strokes up his shaft, working a bead of precome from the tip. He spreads it across the head with his thumb, breath hitching in his throat. 

“I see you’ve begun without me.”

Will grins, bringing his hand up to lick the taste of himself from his thumb. He can hear the hitch in Hannibal’s breath as he slides into bed and straddles Will’s thighs. “Well, you were taking too long.”

Hannibal snorts, palms firm as they slide along Will’s firm stomach and up to thumb across his nipples. “You’ll forgive me, it’s been some time since I’ve stayed in this apartment.”

“Did you have any?”

The only response Will gets is the soft _click_ of a cap, followed by Hannibal’s slick hand wrapping around his length and giving firm strokes. A slow hiss of breath escapes from between clenched teeth, Will’s head falling back. “I guess that’s a yes.”

“It is indeed a yes, astute of you.”

Will can’t help the delighted laugh that bursts from his lips as he rocks into Hannibal’s touch. Hannibal is edging him, teasing. He’ll stroke with delightful firmness, twisting his wrist with each upward pull, only to pull away any time Will makes a sure sound of arousal. He brings him to his peak slowly, again and again before backing off. 

“You’re going to be sorry if I come,” Will warns, chest heaving. “I’m not sixteen, if I go off I’m not getting it up again any time soon.”

Hannibal’s voice is smooth and sure, fingers still teasing him closer to the edge. “I dare say I know your body better than you do, Will. You won’t come before I’m ready for you to come.”

There’s really no argument to be made otherwise. 

They find a position that works for them; Will lays splayed on his back with a pillow propped under his hips and his feet flat on the bed, Hannibal kneeling beside him with one hand stroking his chest and stomach and one working cleverly between his thighs. It’s surprising how quickly Will relaxes and opens up for him. Hannibal makes some sort of comment about him “blossoming” like a flower, one that Will snorts at as he bears down on two fingers and twists a bit.

“Searching for something?” Hannibal teases, lightly thrusting two straight fingers in as Will maneuvers his hips.

“I just….nng, Jesus, it’s hard to find your prostate when you’re doing this to yourself, I was never able to…”

Hannibal smirks, though there is a pause as he considers Will, alone in bed, greedily fingering himself and searching for his ultimate pleasure. He leans down so he can kiss panting lips, nipping and tugging at the lower. “Here, let me help,” he whispers, crooking his fingers and thrusting them in just _so_.

The effect is immediate. Will’s face goes slack with pleasure as his hips jerk up, cock giving a violent twitch as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tense. “O-oh _fuck_.” 

“Is that what you were looking for, my dear?”

Will keens low in his throat as Hannibal’s fingers relentlessly stroke the bundle of nerves, driving into him with intent. “Oh yeah, oh my fucking God that’s incredible…” 

Hannibal withdraws his fingers, smirking at the noise of protest he gets in return. “Sh, trust me,” he cooes, retrieving a condom from somewhere near Will’s shoulder and tearing into the foil packet. He rolls it on smoothly and slicks his length with lube, moving to kneel between Will’s parted legs. “Are you ready, beautiful Will?”

“I’m so ready,” Will groans, draping his legs over Hannibal’s thighs. “Come on, fuck me, I need it…”

He finds himself silenced with a bruising kiss, Hannibal’s tongue thrusting into his mouth. Drawing his thighs up and apart, he sucks in a breath as Hannibal starts to press in.

“You’re alright?” the man above him breathes, unable to mask the stuttering of his heartbeat. Hannibal strokes every inch of his burning skin, soothing trembling muscles as he helps Will adjust to the sensation. “B-bear down on me, like...ah, yes, like that, clever boy…”

Will gasps and pushes down against him, surprised at how it helps the muscles deep within release and allow Hannibal’s length further inside. He seems impossibly big, rigid and unyielding and far too much. Will loves it. He brings his hands up to clutch Hannibal’s shoulders, slowly rocking his hips up as they inch by inch sink into each other.

As Hannibal bottoms out he tangles a hand in Will’s curls, tugging gently. “So perfectly beautiful, so willing,” he chokes, his reverence heavy as it settles over Will’s skin. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah, very alright,” Will pants. He can feel the flush that heats his skin, his face and chest and the tips of his ears. “I’m not against you, you know...moving.”

“Of course you would ruin the holiness of the moment,” Hannibal sighs. Still, he hitches his hips away ever so slightly before pressing back in, earning a pleased gasp from the man below. “And after I’ve been so kind to you.”

“You also stabbed me and attempted to eat my brain,” Will points out, rolling his hips and moaning at the sensation.

“Must we dwell on the past?” Hannibal asks, and Will can hear the smile in his voice. He can’t help but pull him down closer, kissing him hungrily as they find a rhythm together. It matches the rhythm that already exists between them - the constant push and pull, the matching of wits and wiles that has brought them to this point. That sent Will to some place far beyond, lost and alone to bring Hannibal back from the dead.

He gasps, wrapping his arms tight around Hannibal’s neck. When he speaks he barely recognizes his own voice. “Never leave me again,” he begs, eyes screwed shut and chin tucked into his chest as he rocks up.

Hannibal’s hips stall for a moment, and when they resume his movements are deeper, hitting that spot in Will again and again. “I never will,” he swears, breathless and half-crazed with his love for him. He presses in until Will is bent nearly in half, knees to his chest and ankles draped over Hannibal’s shoulders. Will utters a sharp cry, reaching down to fist his aching cock.

“Are you nearly there?” Hannibal asks, though he knows the answer. He drinks in every sigh, every moan, every broken sound that spills from Will’s lips. His hand joins Will’s, fingers tangled together as they work him to completion. 

“Y-yeah, pretty close,” Will chokes. The scar in his side twinges painfully; there’s a good chance it’s still too soon to put his body through such strenuous activities, but damned if he cares when Hannibal is fucking into him at just the right angle and his entire body feels like a livewire. He shudders as Hannibal turns his head to nip at the inside of his ankle, teeth sharp against his skin. “Oh shit, shit, Hannibal fuck!”

His climax is like a bullet to the brain; a sharp second of ecstasy, whiteness around the edges of his consciousness, tremors through his limbs. He cries out as he spills into their joined hands, thick ropes of cum that make a mess of his stomach.

Hannibal withdraws his hand, breath ragged as his hips pick up speed. It takes him a moment to chase his own orgasm, but soon he is seizing and pressing deep into Will as he growls his name and comes.

They end up in a heap on the bed, Will pinned beneath Hannibal’s solid weight as the older man kisses him with desperate hunger. He’s exhausted. He figured after three days of solid sleep he’d be awake for the next four, but now his limbs feel heavy and satisfied and his own lips are sluggish as he tries to return the kisses.

“Have I worn you out again?” Hannibal asks, voice rough but laced with affection.

“Apparently,” Will grins, turning his head and giving a jaw cracking yawn. “Get out of me.”

Hannibal laughs, withdrawing and moving away to dispose of the condom. When he returns it his with a warm cloth, wiping them both down before covering Will with the thick blanket and tucking him in. He crawls in once Will is settled, spooning up against his side. “Sleep, my darling Will. You’ve earned the rest, and I want nothing more than to watch you at peace for a while.”

Will hums, curling into the warmth of Hannibal’s body. He’s still not entirely sure he believes how this all came to be - maybe he dreamed it. Maybe they escaped that cliff together, and everything since then has been an elaborate lie made up by his mind to justify their survival. Whatever it is, he’s tired and there will be tomorrow to dwell on it more.

He closes his eyes and thinks of France. He’s always loved the smell of fresh lavender.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me at Tumblr [here](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)!


End file.
